“We’ve been to every pub in the general vicinity of the murders. We’ve traipsed all over Midtown. Our clues are somewhere else for the moment. Which for some reason—” He tapped my chin. “—reminds me of a conversation we had earlier about this very thing. Funny that you seem not to recall it.”
I stubbornly refused to recall a thing. “We have missed something. Going—”
“Anywhere? The only reason you want to go traipsing anywhere tonight is so you can kiss me.”
I lifted my chin. “I do not want to kiss you.”
“Fine. Shall we go?”
I was taken aback for a second. “Go? Where?”
“You just said we have missed something. We need to revisit our haunts or go somewhere new.”
“Y-Yes.” I smoothed my hair. I didn’t want to kiss him.
“I have something to show you before we leave, though.”
His mouth met mine before I knew what was happening. A gentle pull, a soft caress. I was surprised for a second, because I didn’twantto kiss him.
I melted into his body and called myself ten kinds of fool.
It was a new type of kiss. Exploring and questioning. It wasn’t instructional, or claiming, or for show. It asked a question. And I wasn’t sure of the response.
So I returned the kiss in the same way. Exploring and questioning. What did he want from me? What type of game were we playing? And did I care? Or was I so caught up in playing too that I wasn’t thinking of the future?
My future was muddled and dark. Like the sky before a storm. I wasn’t sure what it would look like come morning. Or if I would still be standing. But this was my chance to taste and explore. To be in control of my choices, even if for a small amount of time.
His lips ran down my chin. Down my throat. He’d discovered a weak spot at my pulse and had been exploiting it all week. His mouth captured the spot and I arched against him, the air escaping my lungs. He pressed me against the table and lifted me so I was sitting on the edge. Both hands reached into my hair and he drew me forth to kiss me again. His legs nudged between mine and he brushed against the spot where the heat always traveled.
His hands moved down my arms and wrapped around my knees, tugging me closer and wrapping my legs around his waist. It brought us flush together and inflamed the aching.
“Do you still wish to leave, Marietta?”
He rocked into me and pleasure jolted up my spine.
“No,” I moaned as his lips found the spot on my neck again.
“You have this lovely dress on, though.” His breath whispered across my neck. “We could travel to some pub and I could devour you in front of the masses. It could be part of the disguise. You wouldn’t have to choose a thing. You wouldn’t have to say that you want this.”
His hand moved up my thigh. “Wouldn’t have to be in control.”
His fingers moved over my hip and waist and under my arm. “You could pretend that this is all happening because you are unsure of what to do. That you are martyred for the cause.”
His thumb pressed against my breast and made a deep circle around my nipple. The heat rushed through my body, spreading.
“But I would know that you really wanted this. To feel your back pressed against this table. For me to bend your knees and bury myself in your heat. To see what happens when your magic mixes with mine.”
He didn’t allow me to speak, taking my mouth in another kiss, this one drugging and dominant. His words painted pictures in my head. Things I’d thought of continuously this past week.
“I think you would like being taken, Marietta. And I would more than enjoy taking you.”
I wasn’t sure beingtakensounded pleasant. But then again anything Gabriel did to me ended up being pleasant, even if it was preceded by taunting words or challenge.
“Would you like being made love to on a table? Perhaps not the first time. But after we get that pesky little problem out of the way, shall we try it here?”
Pesky little problem. As if my virginity, prized in the magic world for the rituals it could be used for, was little more than an annoyance. Then again, my lack of a virginal state wasn’t likely to be an issue these days.
He was dangerous and arrogant, but he was also a protector. Oh, he would undoubtedly leave me at the end of an affair and send me on my way, but intuitively I didn’t think he would hurt me. As long as I didn’t expect anything more. Or, heaven forbid, fall in love with him.
